


I Like how the day sounds through this new song

by Lynge



Series: I'm stuck with these Chucklefucks [8]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Aftercare, Aiden Lives (The Witcher), Bipolar Aiden, Claw Play, D/s undertones, Fucking, Light BDSM, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Punishment, Trans Aiden (The Witcher), Trans Male Character, abrasion play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynge/pseuds/Lynge
Summary: Riding out of Novigrad, heading towards the pond to the south-east of the city, Lambert felt uneasy. Furrowing his brow, he wondered when the pit he felt in his stomach had appeared. Glancing at the Glory Gate over his shoulder, the hairs in his neck stood on end. He saw nothing out of the ordinary; just townsfolk heading to their homes, merchants riding their worn carts out of town and soldiers on patrol.He couldn't tell if he was paranoid, or just plain tired of traveling alone for the past month.***After spending winter apart, Aiden and Lambert meet up again.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: I'm stuck with these Chucklefucks [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869061
Comments: 50
Kudos: 96
Collections: Witcher Rarepair Discord Collection





	1. I was a long, long way off

**Author's Note:**

> CW:  
> \- Genitalia terms used for trans character are both male and female;  
> \- Abrasion play (Claw play to be exact);  
> \- Minimal mention of blood (but it _is_ mentioned);  
> \- Canon typical violence. 
> 
> _Thank yous and inspiration to be found in the notes after the last chapter._

Sitting on the rooftop of Crippled Kate's, Aiden had a good view of the free city. The clay shingles radiated a pleasant heat through his leather trousers. According to his ass, and the sun's position, it was somewhere around mid-noon. 

Shucking off his chest armor, he laid it on top of the woolen cloak he had discarded earlier. It felt a lot warmer in Redania than usual during the first week of spring.

On his first day back in Novigrad, he had stalked over the rooftops in the city until he settled for the whorehouse, deciding it was perfect for the task at hand without compromising on comfort. He just needed to squint to see all the significant gates—though the Oxenfurt one was a bit of a neck-stretcher. More importantly, the whorehouse's roof caught sun almost the entire day, which meant Aiden could work on his tan. Besides, the chance of his target entering through that specific gate was slim.

He leaned back against the chimney, settled in a comfortable position, unsheathed his silver haladie, and started honing the dual blades. 

Impatiently riding through the gates of Novigrad earlier that week, he had reveled in the lack of saliva on his cloak. That had been different in the surrounding villages, where people felt the need to share their opinion in liquid form, raised voices, fists, and—at times—a pitchfork or two. 

In Novigrad, no one bothered Aiden. Sure, there were hushed whispers, mothers who pulled their children closer when they caught a flash of his amber slitted eyes. Those who did have the nerve to stare—or a lack of intellect—were given a wide smile, Aiden knew his sharper than average canines looked unnerving. After that, most people pretended never to have seen him, which was just how he liked it. 

After all, being invisible was a benefit in his line of work.

Across the river, he saw the previously bustling marketplace wind down. In the red glow of the setting sun, merchants packed up their wares for the day and stray dogs fought over discarded food, competing with the vagrants that started to float over from the Bits. 

Biting into one of the small red apples he liberated from a fruit vendor, Aiden sighed in resignation to another day spent lying in wait for nothing. Knowing time was running short on locating his target, he grew increasingly restless on the rooftop.

It had been a long two days since he rode into the city on Honeycrisp, his sorrel mare, currently tied to one of the posts next to Crippled Kate's. 

Aiden stood up and stretched his back. Rolling his shoulders, he winced at the audible pop of bones shifting in sockets. Shielding his eyes from the setting sun with his hand, he finished off the apple, threw the core to a cluster of pigeons he had shared his perch with, and cast a final glance towards the Portside Gate. 

A wicked grin slid into place as Aiden spotted his mark. 

The approaching witcher's stride carried reserved aggression, making the sea of human bodies unconsciously scuttle away from him, repelled by a perpetual bubble of anger that enveloped him. Aiden could recognize that gait in pitch darkness.

Aiden slid into his leather armor and buckled it in place, never taking his eyes off the prize. Slinging his satchel of supplies over his shoulder, he then fastened his black cloak over his armor. Climbing back into the brothel through one of the topmost windows, Aiden descended the stairs, cracking his knuckles, his leather gauntlets creaking in unison.

***

He hated the city. Then again, Lambert hated a lot of things. Not that he should be able to hate—according to the old wives' tales of witchers being 'unfeeling beasts'. 

On more than one occasion, he had wished that a lack of emotion in witchers was fact and not a fable. It would have made his life a hell of a lot easier since, in reality, he had plenty of feelings. Right now, tiredness and frustration. Mostly over his last contract turning out to be a spectacularly messy one. 

Passing through Flotsam, an alderman approached him about a Grave Hag that was bothering the town. The pay wasn't great, but since the graveyard was on the way to Novigrad, Lambert figured he could make some extra coin.

The grave hag turned out to be one with a quick tongue. Before Lambert got the better of it, the hag had managed to rip a tear in his trousers with its claws; he shuddered as he felt the disgusting tongue wrap around his calf, the poisonous saliva causing him to lose his vision for a moment. 

Unable to see, he cast a quick Yrden and sidestepped on instinct. Using his hearing to locate the hag, he swung his silver sword in a high arch and felt the metal's grinding resistance on bone vibrate into his arm. His vision rushing back, he saw his weapon caught on the base of the necrophage's neck. He pulled the sword through with a twist. Hearing a sickeningly wet crack as the vertebrae of the hag's spine separated from its neck, ligaments tearing apart as the severed head tumbled to the ground.

Lambert's horse snorted with disapproval as the witcher slammed the hag's fetid head onto the trophy hook. Next was cleaning out the wound on his calf, which was simple enough. All he had to do was flush the poison out with a flask of Golden Oriole; it didn't even need stitches.

That the damage had been only light wasn't the point. The point was that Lambert had allowed the hag to get close enough to deliver the blow. _I might be a cocky bastard,_ he thought, _but this fuck up didn't come from being over-confident._

Reassessing the fight, he knew that his moves were careless at times. He had been taking unnecessary shortcuts. Sighing deep, he could hear Eskel in his mind: "Your proclivity to skirt from a proper stance will cost you a limb one day, Lambert." He could imagine his wolf brother’s disappointed scowl, arms folded over his chest, probably shaking his head too.

Who the fuck even used a word like proclivity?!

Rolling his eyes at imaginary Eskel, Lambert conceded that skipping some stances had allowed the hag to weasel her way closer. Still, that wasn't how the injury had happened. It happened because Lambert was distracted and tired. 

The incident with the grave hag had proven to him that the shortcuts were making him sloppy. It was time to get his shit together and head towards the city.

When he arrived back at Flotsam, throwing the hag's head at the alderman's feet, he found only half the coin they had agreed on in the pouch the alderman handed him. Lambert had thought about threatening the alderman but settled for teaching the man a string of colorful and inventive expressions while taking a piss against his cottage. 

He may have also snuck into the alderman's house late that night. Signing Axii to keep the man in his slumber, Lambert slid the hag’s decaying head under the covers. He'd cut the tongue out beforehand, _too valuable to waste on this cocksucker_ , he thought, propping the slimy skull close enough to the alderman's cock to give the man a good scare when he woke up. _Artful revenge_ , if he did say so himself. 

Lambert suspected he wouldn't be embraced with open arms next time he passed the village. Probably best to leave Flotsam off the route for a decade or so. 

After that fiasco, Lambert stuck to back-roads, taking the long way to Novigrad. It added another day and a half to his journey, but it meant he didn't have to deal with anyone on the Path. 

That changed as soon as the Portside Gate drew near. Deciding he didn't want to stay a moment too long in the stinking pile of shit city, he nudged his horse toward Glory Lane. No need to go into the city any further than that. 

***

Lambert had named his horse just before he and Aiden parted ways the previous year.

They were riding side by side at a comfortable pace when Aiden had started rattling off potential names for the stallion. 

Lambert argued that his means of transportation, which was temporary in the grand scheme of things, didn't need a name.

"That's a bit fatalistic, don't you think?" Aiden said while rummaging through his satchel, grabbing them both something to eat.

"This horse's great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren will be glue by the time either one of us is dead, Aiden." Lambert raised a provocative eyebrow, taking the piece of bread Aiden offered him.

"Remind me to introduce you to Eskel. You two can jack each other off, whispering sweet words like 'sesquipedalianism' to each other." he added before taking a bite. 

"How about Rose? Or Daisy?" Lambert’s eyes narrowed in concentration; Aiden was not taking the bait. 

Confronting Lambert about how hollow his reasoning was would probably make for a shit evening. So Aiden bit his tongue, wondering why Lambert seemed hell-bent on making sure no one figured out that he had a brain. 

There were fields in which Aiden couldn't keep up with Lambert; he didn't even bother making bombs or potions when they traveled together. Lambert's creations had double the potency of what Aiden could brew up. Lambert claimed that the wolf school had improved the recipes over the years. Aiden suspected the improvements had come by way of Lambert's own research and experimentation.

Before they parted for winter, Lambert asked Aiden about the decoction he took as replacement hormones, and improved that old cat school recipe. Leaving Aiden with enough vials to last the winter. Aiden wasn’t sure what Lambert did differently, but the potency of it meant he only needed to take the decoction once a month instead of every week. Lambert also threw in anise, which made it taste better. 

Aiden was startled out of his thoughts by the indignation as Lambert whined, bread crumbs flying everywhere, "Aiden, this is a pure-bred stallion, why the fuck would I name a stallion after a flower?!"

He also rejected Buttercup and Tulip. However, this round did go to Aiden, since Lambert ultimately yielded and named his horse to get Aiden to shut up.

Horse. The fucker had named his horse; _Horse_. 

***

His colleague wouldn't stay in the city a minute longer than strictly necessary. Aiden ran through the routine they had fallen into while traveling the Path; sell trinkets, repair armor, buy provisions, and check the notice boards before riding out again.

Aiden highly doubted Lambert would throw even a cursory glance at one of the notice boards in Novigrad. His only concern would be to get his business done and leave as soon as possible. 

Lambert's horse wasn't fond of busy places either, which meant its rider would avoid Hierarch Square. And since he rode in through the Portside Gate, it made Glory Lane the logical choice for a quick in and out. By navigating side streets, Aiden wove through Novigrad unnoticed.

Ducking into an alleyway, Aiden saw Lambert heading in his direction. Pushing his back against the wall of the dingy alley, willing himself one with the shadows, he had to suppress the urge to reach out and grab Lambert's wrist as he passed the narrow street.

Inhaling through his nose, Aiden caught a whole lot of unpleasant scents from the alley that he'd rather not distinguish right now. Underneath it was a hint of spicy-sweet saltpeter and celandine coming from Lambert's direction. The smell called up a flurry of images that overwhelmed Aiden for a moment.

 _Focus_ , he reprimanded himself. _You have not gotten this close to get caught while standing in a piss filled street._

Stepping into the street, Aiden pulled his hood lower over his face and resumed his pursuit. Lambert meanwhile had made it back to Horse, mounting the dark stallion with a liquid grace that made Aiden grit his teeth as more memories flooded back. 

Primarily of Lambert's leather-clad ass, both in and out of said leather.

That ridiculously tight and firm a— _For fucks sake, get your head in the game Aiden!_ He stared after the horse as he rode out of Novigrad, barely managing to suppress most of the things he wanted to do to the rider sitting on top. 

Once he was sure Lambert was out of view, Aiden walked back to Honeycrisp. Giving her one of the apples from his satchel, he considered the options Lambert had in lodgings. He would want to stay at an inn close enough to the city, without having to remain inside it. 

And if Aiden were a betting man, he'd wager that inn to be the Cunny of the Goose. 

***

Riding out of Novigrad, heading towards the pond to the south-east of the city, Lambert felt uneasy. Furrowing his brow, he wondered when the pit he felt in his stomach had appeared. Glancing at the Glory Gate over his shoulder, the hairs in his neck stood on end. He saw nothing out of the ordinary; just townsfolk heading to their homes, merchants riding their worn carts out of town and soldiers on patrol. 

He couldn't tell if he was paranoid, or just plain tired of traveling alone for the past months.

Lambert kept the reins of Horse slack and decided to ride to The Cunny of the Goose. It was the closest inn outside the city, and he was tired enough to settle for any place with a bed, clean sheets, and preferably a hot bath. 

When he rode up to the stable behind the inn, a grimy boy offered to unsaddle his horse. 

Lambert bore his golden cat-like eyes into the pale grey ones of the boy. "If you don't take care of your horse, you're not worth riding it." 

The boy looked at him in confusion. "Get lost. I’ll take care of him myself." Without a reply, the boy tucked tail and set off. 

It had been a humid day, Lambert had pushed to make sure he could drop off his gear before daylight was gone. 

A film of sweat covered Horse. After removing both saddle and saddlebags, Lambert rubbed the steed down. It was a soothing job that he found strangely relaxing—giving him time to wind down just as much as Horse. 

Finding fresh hay near the stable entrance, he made sure there was more than enough to eat for Horse. And after filling the trough with cold water, Lambert decided it was time to get himself sorted. Backing out of the small pen, he gave Horse a fond pat on his neck before he trudged towards the inn.

He paid the innkeeper upfront for the night, asking for a filled tub. Hot water optional. He could heat it with signs if needed. The innkeeper handed Lambert the keys to his room for the night. With a grunt and a nod he went upstairs, rejoicing in the fact that these people weren't talkers. 

Locking the door behind him, he looked around at the room. Moonlight shining in through the window was all Lambert needed with his enhanced eyesight. 

He opened the window to let fresh air in and was glad to see the bathtub was full, towels laid out on a rickety chair next to it, and the bed was a decent enough size.

Putting down his saddlebags at the foot of the bed, he unbuckled the straps of his baldrics, setting them next to the headboard. 

Lambert removed his armor, followed by his undershirt, boots, and trousers without much enthusiasm.

He could clean his armor tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to sit in a warm bathtub and not think about things. 

He padded over to the bathtub and swirled his hand through the water, casting Igni to get it to his preferred temperature. Somewhere between 'scalding hot' and 'I can't feel my skin' should loosen up his muscles. Taking off his cotton braies, he felt a gust of wind from the window breathe over his bare ass, a shudder went through him. 

He had to dive deep into his bag to get out his last sliver of soap. With a sharp inhale, he stepped into the hot water, his skin adapting to the heat quickly as he sat down in the tub. Instantly his muscles eased, and he groaned with content. 

He lathered himself up, feeling the weariness of travel slide away. Seeing the bar dissolve, the suds slipping through his fingers, Lambert tensed up again and closed his eyes. 

Well, that was that. The soap, pilfered from Aiden's satchel before Lambert had gone back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, was gone.

All he had left now was the smell of eucalyptus and cedar steaming up from the bathtub. 

***

Hoisting himself onto the ledge under the window, Aiden sat back on his haunches and let the darkness swallow him. He could hear Lambert moving around in the room and felt his amulet vibrate as the man just a few feet away from him cast Igni to heat the tub. 

Aiden risked a glance and saw Lambert standing with his back to the open window, relieved of most of his clothes. Aiden had to stifle a moan, gods damned; he looked glorious, even if he wasn't completely naked. Yet.

Lambert's back was a dense field of old scars and tight muscles, shifting under his skin with coiled tension. Aiden knew what that upper body strength could do. To him, or whatever creature would attempt to attack them on their travels. Though he assumed it was less enjoyable for the monsters. Not that he could blame them if they did get off on going a few rounds with the wolf. 

When Lambert slid his braies down his hips, he turned towards the window. Aiden felt a hot wave of desire shoot through his cunt as Lambert lowered himself into the tub. Aiden knew he wouldn't be able to stay undetected for long, not after all these months of waiting.

His hands trailed down to the front of his leathers, and he undid the ties, giving himself room to work with.

Slipping his right hand into his trousers, he could feel the center of his braies radiate a wet heat already. He pressed down on his dick through his braies. Nearly giving in to the temptation of jumping through the window, pull Lambert out of the tub and fuck him into a whimpering mess, right then and there.

The sharp inhale of air Aiden took as he rubbed his dick, sobered him up straight away. He could smell himself. Which meant Lambert would also catch his scent. Grinding his cunt into his hand, he gave the air a quick sniff.

The soapy scent of eucalyptus and cedar _wasn't_ coming from Aiden. _That cheeky son of a bitch!_

The aroma came from the open window, carried by the heavy steam rising from the tub. Aiden reluctantly pulled his hand up and fastened his trousers with a quick tug. Licking his fingers clean quickly, he didn't take the time to savor the musky taste. 

Instead, he jumped through the window with resentful fury.

***

Lambert shot up from the tub in a rush of adrenaline as soon as he saw movement at the window. Normally, he would have been able to make it to his swords in more than enough time. Normally, he was not in his bare ass and covered in soapy water though. 

But this wasn’t normally. 

As Lambert took a dive towards the headboard, he felt his feet slide away from under him on the worn wooden floor. He managed to tuck himself into a dodge roll to avoid breaking any limbs but that was about as far as the positives went on this shitstorm. He hit the floor with a loud crash on the wrong side of the bed, his swords being at least two meters away from him. From underneath the bed he saw feet quickly blurring back and forth between the window and the bathtub. 

Lambert started cursing and pushed himself off the floor, vaulting across the bed, hands outstretched to grab whichever of his swords would be closest. Whoever this suicidal idiot was that decided to break into his room, he doubted they would survive either one of them. 

His hands tightened around the hilt of—nothing. His hands wrapped around _nothing_. He looked down at the wall and the floor, his swords were not there. He felt his stomach drop as he realized he was stark naked and unarmed.

Yeah sure, Vesemir had always maintained that no witcher dies in their bed, but Lambert had hoped to go out with a little bit more dignity than having his cock hanging out in a fucking inn, being bested by some two-bit burglar. Fuck, if he survived this, he needed to kill whoever had the nerve to attack him, because if this ever got back to the other witchers, he’d never hear the end of it. 

_Time for a good old fistfight I guess._ He thought to himself and brought up his arms in a loose boxing stance, making sure the wall was at his back. He looked up over his fists to see where his assailant was. 

The assailant was sitting in the rickety chair next to the tub. Face hidden beneath a dark cloak, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Fingers laced together in front of their stomach, it looked like they had been sitting there forever, there wasn’t a breath of movement in the air. 

Lambert’s swords were casually perched against the wall behind the hooded figure. 

***

"You stole something of mine, so I thought it only fair to take something of yours." Aiden said calmly, gesturing at the swords behind him.

Lambert’s entire body was flushed red from the hot water and the spurt of adrenaline coursing through his body. Aiden gave him an appreciative once over from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, lingering on Lambert’s strong calves, thick thighs, smirking at his already hardening cock, up to his abdomen, following the trail of hair up his now panting chest. Finally locking onto his face. 

Aiden had missed that face. The sardonic smile that would be on it more often than not. His short beard framing full soft lips, the scowling set of his brow and his prominent nose, which Aiden thought made him look handsome without spilling into the pretty category. 

Lambert’s jaw was set, muscles working as he swallowed and his golden eyes burned furiously. _Seems the wolf doesn’t like getting caught with his pants down,_ Aiden thought with a snicker. He held Lambert’s gaze, time ticking by slowly. After the initial defiance and adrenaline drained from Lambert, Aiden tasted the sweet scent of panic in the air. He sat forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees. All the while keeping his eyes burrowed into Lambert’s. 

He could see that Lambert’s fight or flight reflexes were waging a war inside him and it turned Aiden on more than he thought it would. The feeling curling up hot and tight between his legs. 

They both knew Lambert wasn’t getting out of this unscathed. He’d pushed it too far. 

Aiden liked to think he was a fair man, so he offered Lambert a choice: “The way I see it, you owe me.” Aiden stood up, slid off his haladies and set them beside Lambert’s swords. It almost looked domestic.

“Either you give yourself to me willingly, or I take you by force.” He took off his cloak and unbuckled his chest armor, tossing them onto the chair behind him without looking. “The choice is yours, but make no mistake, I will get what I want.”

Courtesy of Lambert being late for their meetup, Aiden figured that whatever was coming to Lambert tonight was his own doing. Those two days on the roof of Crippled Kate’s had given Aiden more than enough time to build up a scenario in which Lambert would have agency over his situation. Up to a certain point. It was a fine line they were walking on, but if Aiden guided Lambert correctly, it would be worth it. 

He saw the muscles in Lambert’s body tighten and brace a moment before he came at him. 

_Seems like you made your choice,_ Aiden thought as his smile broadened, _an excellent choice at that._

***

Lambert was painfully aware that he was at a disadvantage, being naked and all. He knew that Aiden was faster than him. He also knew that in pure strength, he could take Aiden on, as long as he hit hard and fast. He had a good 30 pounds on Aiden, most of which was situated in his shoulders and arms. The benefits of favoring heavy swords over the lighter weaponry Aiden used. If he was able to get the upper hand, he had a chance of getting out of this situation without too much damage.

He saw Aiden’s calculating smile as he lunged at him. _Only one chance to get this right,_ he thought as he wrapped one arm around Aiden’s ribcage and used his other to force his head forward. The pressure made Aiden stumble and Lambert used the momentum to throw him face down onto the floor. The room shook as Lambert followed through on the move, grabbing Aiden's wrists, locking them on his back and ending up on top of Aiden, straddling his ass. _There,_ Lambert thought, _got you, you piece of shit._

Panting from the burst of energy, Lambert felt victorious. He’d done it. _He_ was on top, not Aiden. 

“Yeah, good luck on ‘getting what you want’ pretty boy.” Lambert pushed down on Aiden’s hips for emphasis, “Cause hey, guess what? I came out on top.”

Lambert felt Aiden’s body shiver below him. No, it wasn’t really a shiver, it felt more like—“Are you laughing? What the fuck you sack of shit, you’re down. This is over, I win.”

***

Aiden started laughing. Loud, deep belly laughs coming out with some strain since he was pinned to the ground. But hearing Lambert's smug voice, full of misplaced arrogance, was just delicious.

With a quick flick of his wrists, Aiden twisted his hands free and reached down to circle his hand closed around the base of Lambert's cock and balls. It startled Lambert, and Aiden felt him hesitate for a moment, which was all Aiden needed. Letting go of Lambert's hardening cock, he bucked the witcher off and rolled onto his back, after which his hand locked back into place on Lambert's cock 

"You were saying?" With a toothy grin, Aiden squeezed Lambert harder, feeling him twitch. 

Lambert grumbled, "You sonofa-"

"I'd consider my next words very carefully if I were you." Aiden cut Lambert off, increasing the pressure around his cock. He pulled Lambert upright by his shoulders and shoved him towards the bed.

Letting go, Aiden gave Lambert time to work through the adrenaline. Lambert's breathing calmed down and Aiden reached out to him with his palms up in invitation. Lambert took a step towards Aiden and placed his hands into Aidens'. Feeling the soft skin on Lambert’s wrists, Aiden drew small circles, knowing it would calm him down.

Remembering the exhausted expression he caught on Lambert's face in Novigrad had unsettled him. It made Aiden realize that being apart for months was not working for Lambert. Hell, it wasn't working for Aiden either. 

Lambert had professed that it was a perfect chance for research, tweaking recipes, and catching up with his brothers. He almost managed to sound optimistic, which had impressed Aiden at the time. Aiden didn't doubt that Lambert would have enough work to keep himself busy during the winter. He just didn't think the witcher was really taking any of his time there to unwind. 

Even though Lambert never said anything about it, Aiden knew it wasn't because he wanted to be apart from him. Cats simply weren't welcome at Kaer Morhen after the tournament massacre. Aiden had his cat brothers to thank for fucking up the fragile alliance they had with the wolves. Lambert simply felt honor-bound to his mentor and fellow wolves, that's why he kept going back to the keep. 

So what if they found common ground for Aiden to stay closer? He could take jobs in Kaedwen or Redania, instead of further south. The wolves' pack had diminished to four after the sacking of Kaer Morhen. Hardly anything he couldn't handle if he had to vault over a keep wall when he wanted to see his wolf. 

Aiden had been living a nomadic life ever since Stygga fell. The thought of having a fixed place where you were welcome was attractive to him. 

Though thinking about it, he guessed he had found that. _It just isn't where. It's who._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sesquipedalianism**  
>  _Noun - (plural sesquipedalianisms)_  
>  The practice of using long, sometimes obscure, words in speech or writing.


	2. And the lines have all been drawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Winter was shit. Vesemir insists on rebuilding Kaer Morhen, which is like painting a turd gold and hoping someone will think it's worth a fuck." Lambert settled against Aiden's chest, a stuttering sigh falling out of him. "Eskel and Geralt have finally stopped their little denial dance, but now they make enough noise to make the keep sound like there are forty of us instead of four."
> 
> ***
> 
> _This is where we use Lambert as a scratching post._

"I missed you, pup," Aiden said, giving Lambert's wrists a quick squeeze, dipping in for a kiss. The, quite literal, pet name made Lambert's stomach do a flip. _ Gods, I've missed you too,  _ he thought. Lambert leaned into Aiden and kissed him back with voracious enthusiasm. 

"Winter was shit. Vesemir insists on rebuilding Kaer Morhen, which is like painting a turd gold and hoping someone will think it's worth a fuck." Lambert settled against Aiden's chest, a stuttering sigh falling out of him. "Eskel and Geralt have finally stopped their little denial dance, but now they make enough noise to make the keep sound like there are forty of us instead of four." 

He inhaled deep, resting his head on Aiden's shoulder. "It's much better if it's not soap, but you." He knew he sounded sappy and clingy, but he didn't care. The rush of adrenaline while they had their brawl, well, while he was brawling and Aiden just laughed, had made him lightheaded.

Aiden took a step back from Lambert and looked at him with greedy eyes. "On that note, you—Aiden pointed at him—stole my soap."

Lambert watched as Aiden grabbed his satchel next to the chair and tossed it onto the bed. It gave a little bounce.  _ What the hell is he carrying in there? _

"I wasted half a day backtracking because I thought the bar had slipped out of my satchel,—Sit." Aiden indicated towards the bed with a nod. Lambert sat down on the foot of the bed, as Aiden started to unpack the bag, placing the items on the bed while he spoke. 

"It wasn't until I got to Ofir that I found the soap I wanted. I spent five days covered in alghoul guts. You know how much I hate waiting that long to get cleaned up." Aiden pulled an apple out of the satchel and placed it near the headboard. "Because you were too lazy to buy yourself soap and decided to steal mine." 

"I didn't take it because I was lazy." Lambert heard himself mutter.

"Pray tell my dear, why did you steal the soap then? And don't tell me it was by accident, I'm not falling for that." A leather glove with wicked-looking fingertips appeared from the bag and was put next to the apple. 

"Why are we even talking about this," Lambert sighed. "It's fucking embarrassing, and you know I hate it." _ No, you don't, _ a voice in the back of his mind chimed up.  _ Ever since he confronted you about the five-finger discount, you've been hard. _

"We're talking about this because you need to learn to not steal my shit," Aiden said in an exasperated tone.

"That’s really rich, coming from you," he scoffed. "A trained thief, explaining ownership of property."

***

Lambert's eyes were so round from adrenaline and desire, Aiden almost couldn't tell they belonged to a witcher. Even without the pressure of Aiden's hand on his cock, Lambert was still hard. _Good._ _He might actually accept this without too much of a fight,_ Aiden thought, pulling Lambert close. 

The sadistic satisfaction Aiden felt settling in his dick when he glanced at Lambert, seeing the anger in his eyes, made him hard. He clenched his thighs together for stimulation, and a shiver ran up his spine.

Aiden knew why Lambert had stolen the soap. And he didn't  _ really  _ mind, even though he rather would have had Lambert ask, instead of having him feel the need to hide that he wanted it as a keepsake.

Granted, it also gave Aiden a perfect excuse to wreck the smartass.

He didn't bother pushing the question of why on Lambert, focusing instead on how they were going to make sure he wouldn't do this again. 

He sat down next to Lambert, "You took something that wasn't yours to take, so I'm going to make sure you know the value of the word 'consequences.'" Slipping his arms around Lambert's waist, Aiden pulled him into his lap sideways and nuzzled his neck.

Stroking over Lambert's thighs, making the hairs the stand on end, Aiden whispered into Lambert's ear. "You will let me take what I want. I will let you know when your debt is paid. Clear?" 

***

Lambert nodded, fidgeting in Aiden's lap. "I took it on impulse." The words came tumbling out quickly. "Because you smell so goddamn good, the thought of not being near you all those months was shit enough." He knew Aiden didn't expect too much communication from him when it came to his feelings. In this case, Lambert found it essential that he knew the soap wasn't taken out of laziness.

Aiden hugged Lambert close. "Thank you for answering the question. Now, on your knees, face the headboard." Aiden walked over to the other side of the bed, where the apple and glove still laid.

He turned his head and saw Aiden taking off the last of his clothes.  _ No new scars,  _ Lambert thought with relief. He got harder the more he looked at Aiden's lithe frame. The trail of chest hair forming a path down to his muscled abdomen and dipping further into the darker curls. Aiden was obviously turned on, his dick swollen and peeking out from his slit. 

Lambert looked at the glove lying next to him. It was made of supple leather, clearly not a fighting gauntlet, but more along the lines of something that you would wear for special occasions. Except, Lambert couldn't really figure out what special occasion would call for the slightly curved tips on the glove's fingers. 

"What's up with the panther paws?" he asked, going for a breezy levity and hearing it come out with a tinge of fear.

***

"I made it this winter to keep myself busy." Aiden picked the glove up from the bed.

"Back when I traveled with the caravan, we would often train without weapons. Since we get so close to our enemies, it's a good bet that you will lose your daggers or swords at some point." Aiden slid his hand into the glove, wriggling his fingers, to show the claws moving as an extension of his own. 

"Most of us got used to making sure we'd never be without all of our weaponry. And that's when we figured out how to toughen up just the tips of our gloves." He flexed his hand in front of Lambert's face. 

"I sharpened and hardened the tips, so they work as an extended claw. It's durable enough to rip chunks out of most monsters, but it can also have more  _ stimulating  _ uses."

Holding Lambert in place by his shoulders with his uncovered hand, he took one gloved finger and traced it over Lambert's back. A neat white line trailed over his back. Lambert's skin responded by breaking out in goosebumps. 

"I'm not going to make this first part easy on you, Lambert. Consequences for your actions and such." The bed dipped as Aiden straddled Lambert's calves, keeping him in place. He couldn't resist grinding his dick against Lambert’s ass. 

Reaching over Lambert's back, Aiden grabbed the apple. "Open your mouth," he told Lambert, who glanced back over his shoulder at him.

"What?" Lambert scowled at the apple "I appreciate the thought, but is this the best time for a snack?"

Aiden laughed and held the small red apple out for Lambert. "It's not a snack. It's to shut you up."

Lambert blinked at him incredulously.

"You're going to hold it in your mouth, and you're going to want to make sure that once I'm done decorating you, it's still in one piece." Aiden gestured towards Lambert's mouth with the apple.

Aiden trailed another line down Lamberts' back with the clawed glove. "If I see even the faintest hint of teeth in the apple's skin, you're not getting fucked."

Aiden knew words were off the table at this point and took Lambert's hand. "If you need a break, you tap the headboard twice. If you need me to stop, you tap three times."

***

Just the two light scratches Aiden made on his back were already setting his teeth on edge without the added challenge of the apple. There was no way the fruit was staying in one piece. 

He considered his options. Even thinking of just grabbing the fruit and taking a bite right there. He opened his mouth and covered his teeth with his lips, gingerly scooping the apple into his mouth.  _ God, I feel like a complete idiot right now. _

It was a small apple,  _ thank fuck _ , so it wasn't too hard to keep it between his lips. He hoped Aiden would go easy on him because he  _ really  _ wanted to be fucked tonight. Aiden would probably argue that the outcome of that was in his own hands now. More accurately, mouth.

_ I’m the least patient person you know, you expect that apple to stay intact while you're going to use my back as a scratching post?  _ Lambert thought and felt his cock stir.  _ Either you’re insane, or evil, Aiden. Or both.  _

He braced himself for the claw on his back. Lambert didn't mind pain, hell he had the tendency to poke at his bruises to see if they were still there, savoring the dull ache that confirmed it. But the thought of the gloves' ability to 'rip out chunks of monsters' made him hesitant.

"I spent five whole days reeking of alghoul guts. I think five scratches, one for every day, sounds like a fair deal."

Lambert nodded with more enthusiasm than he planned. He felt Aiden tense behind his back. With the first strike down his back, he felt the trail burn on his skin. Lambert had to resist clamping down on the apple straight away.  _ Shit, Fuck, how the hell am I supposed to last through four more?! _ He thought in panic. 

The stinging sensation was replaced by comforting strokes of Aiden's ungloved palm. He gently traced the trail along Lambert's back with his fingers and pressed himself against Lambert's back. "That was one."

Lambert felt a kiss being placed in his nape before he leaned back again. With his free hand, Aiden held on to Lambert's hip and set the glove on his right shoulder. He struck in a broad pattern that made Lambert feel like he was getting dragged over a pine forest floor. Lambert groaned and had to put every effort into keeping still. 

Focussing on not biting into the apple was the only thing that Lambert could do not to scream. He knew he  _ could  _ get out of this if he wanted. Tap the headboard, drop the apple, either one would make Aiden stop. Shoving the thought aside, he concentrated on Aiden's warm hand lightly caressing his hip, trailing down to cup his ass. He could do this. He knew he could.

Aiden clutched Lambert's ass as he struck a third time, leaving long, tight lines running on his back. With a high pitched whimper, Lambert realized he was leaking precum all over the bedsheets.  _ What the fuck?!  _ Horror flashed through him, _ I'm getting fucking turned on by this?! _

He begged Aiden wouldn't notice it. Wouldn't see what a sick fuck he actually was. Aiden's claw was hurting him. The sharp stinging pain shouldn't be turning him on like this! Looking down, his dripping cock only confirmed what he feared.

When the fourth scratch landed on his right side, near his ribs, he shuddered into Aiden, who slipped his hand around Lambert's waist and took hold of Lambert's cock.  _ He's going to know now.  _ Lambert closed his eyes tightly and waited for Aiden to push him away in disgust. He breathed through the anxiety, trying to silence the voice in his head that told him he was a sick fucking pervert for getting turned on by what Aiden was doing to him.

***

Aiden could smell the fear in the air, it was tinted with the scent of unshed tears and confusion. He had expected this to be hard for Lambert, and pressing his chest against Lambert's back, Aiden boxed him in, putting as much reassurance and warmth into the touch as possible.

"You're beautiful like this, pup." He stroked Lambert's cock, more than enough precum made it a smooth slide, which confirmed to Aiden where the panicked energy was coming from.

"Take a deep breath for me. You're so good." He placed another kiss in Lambert's neck. "I'm not sure who is getting off on this more," he tightened his hand over Lambert's cock, pressing his own dick against his partner’s ass, so he knew without a doubt what Aiden was feeling. 

"There's only one left, I know you can do this." Aiden slid his gloved hand to Lambert's front, perching the sharp tips against his stomach's soft, vulnerable muscles. Pushing his claw into Lambert's belly, he gave a squeeze at the base of Lambert’s cock and slashed over his stomach in one fell swoop. 

***

The approaching final swipe, over the flesh of his stomach, was terrifying. One wrong move and he would be eviscerated. Lambert hung on to the words Aiden had whispered into his ear. He had been startled to feel how Aiden's hot dick rubbed up against his ass, realizing that if he was a sick fuck, then apparently, so was Aiden. He could do this. He  _ wanted  _ to do this. 

Bracing himself, he let go of the backboard and reached back, curling his fingers into Aiden's hair, holding on for dear life. The last scratch came fast and hard. Lambert wasn't sure if it was the location or knowing that it was the last one, but it broke his resolve not to give in, and he felt tears spilling down his cheeks.

Looking down at his stomach, he saw four angry red lines pucker up and a few beads of blood welling up. His jaw went slack, the apple started falling in what appeared like slow motion. He fumbled and was just in time to catch the small red fruit, holding it up in both hands. He felt the slits in the apple's skin before he saw them, and he wanted to kick himself. He had been doing so fucking well before that last slash!

Lambert turned towards Aiden and offered him the apple. 

***

Aiden took the apple from Lambert. Without looking at it, he tossed it through the open window. "Oops. Slipped out of my fingers." He said with a mischievous smile, dropping the clawed glove on the floor next to the bed.

"I didn't see any dents in the skin, did you?" Aiden tilted Lambert's face up with one finger. He didn't know if Lambert was aware of the tears streaming down his face. He sure wasn't about to enlighten the wolf, for fear of scaring him back into his burrow. He gently kissed the corner of Lambert's lip and licked away the apple juice quickly.

"Stay here for a moment, I'm getting something to clean you up." Aiden padded over to his satchel and took out a vial of alcohol. Walking past the tub, he scooped up two of the towels and dampened one with spirit. Returning to the bed, he placed himself between Lambert and the headboard. 

Aiden delicately wiped over Lambert's back, which was just scratched up a bit with slight red welts. Circling his arms around Lambert's waist, he used the cloth to wipe off the already healing scratch on his abdomen. The welled up blood was minimal, but the effect had been exactly what he meant it to be. 

"I am so fucking proud of you," he whispered into Lambert's neck, stroking through his hair and hugging him close. Once he felt Lambert's breathing evening out, Aiden shifted him, so they were facing each other.

Lambert's eyes were completely glazed over, the tears had stopped flowing, Lambert's face actually looked peaceful. To be frank, Aiden thought it was delicious and unnerving to see Lambert drift off. 

Aiden grinned and peppered Lambert's face in kisses. It must have tickled because Lambert started giggling. It was a shocking sound. He'd heard Lambert laugh before, sure, but not like this. A bubbly sound that had no right to come from such a gruff man. A sound that Aiden wanted to put in a box for no one else to ever hear. 

***

Lambert heard Aiden ask if he was okay, his voice sounded a bit far away. When Lambert opened his mouth to confirm being okay, no words came out. He took a deep breath and realized he was more than okay. His body tingled wherever Aiden touched him. It was as if he was sitting right next to a charged place of power. 

When he heard a giggle float through the room, it took him a moment to register that it was coming from him.  _ Oh, for fucks sake, this is such an undignified sound _ , he thought to himself, being unable to stop it. He buried his face in Aiden's chest to stifle the sounds and held on to Aiden tightly, inhaling his comforting scent. 

Lambert nodded, "Yeah, I'm—I'm good. Just, give me a moment." he said hoarsely. After a few deep breaths, he looked up at Aiden and stretched up for a kiss. Lambert slipped his arms around Aiden's waist and pulled him down a bit on the bed. Stretching them both out over the mattress. 

Aiden, laying on his back, pulled Lambert half onto his chest. He traced slow circles over Lambert's back with his fingertips, scritching through his beard with the other hand. Lambert gave a low growl. His skin was overstimulated, and the touches ached pleasantly. Looking up at Aiden's face, he traced his fingers over his abdomen, up to his chest, wrapping his arm around him. He dozed off for a while as Aiden kept stroking his back. 


	3. Thank you for opening the window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they laid on the bed together, Aiden felt Lambert's heartbeat go into the slow, steady rhythm it had whenever he rested. Aiden felt a Cheshire grin plastered on his face. He admired how Lambert had worked through the punishment. Letting go wasn't easy for anyone, but Aiden had once thought it would be impossible for Lambert entirely.
> 
> ***
> 
>  _Smut. Unadulterated smut._  
>  And an Epilogue.

As they laid on the bed together, Aiden felt Lambert's heartbeat go into the slow, steady rhythm it had whenever he rested. Aiden felt a Cheshire grin plastered on his face. He admired how Lambert had worked through the punishment. Letting go wasn't easy for anyone, but Aiden had once thought it would be impossible for Lambert entirely. 

It had been absolutely stunning to see Lambert struggle and accept what was happening, Aiden was glad he could give him this. It also helped that Aiden got immensely turned on seeing Lambert squirm under his hands. 

Lambert started to stir as Aiden stole a kiss from him just as he opened his eyes. They were no longer glazed but had a satiated glint in his eyes.

"You're adorable when you squirm," Aiden whispered against his mouth. He knew Lambert hated being called anything along the cute, adorable, or pretty lines, which only made it more fun to do it. 

"Fuck you, Aiden." Lambert propped himself up on one elbow and raised a brow with a quizzical look. "So… Slippery apple?"

"Yeah, I can be such a klutz. You'd almost think I wasn't a highly trained stealthy assassin with impeccable balancing skills." he managed to get the quip out before laughter overtook him.

When he looked at Lambert, he saw the scowl in his eyes and had to suppress another round of laughter. He really didn't want his pup to feel like he was being laughed at. 

"Lambert, that apple was so ripe, there was little to no chance of you keeping it in one piece. To be honest, I'm really impressed you made the damn thing last until the fifth scratch. You did exceptionally well purely by being a stubborn fucker." 

He ruffled through Lambert's dark hair. It really had grown a bit since winter. Aiden could tell that if he could persuade Lambert to let it grow, he would have gorgeous dark waves.

"Lambert, if I would have spotted even a dent on that apple, I would be fucking myself over worst of all." Aiden grabbed Lambert's wrists and flopped him onto his back.

"More accurately, I would **not** be fucking." Aiden took Lambert's cock and started stroking him back to attention.

***

Lambert groaned and writhed on the bed. "Fucking hell, Aiden, you insufferable—" Lambert didn't get far with that sentence as Aiden straddled him and rubbed the head of his cock against his wet opening, feeling the moisture slick Lambert up with every pass. 

"Less talking, more fucking." Aiden groaned as he sunk down on Lambert's cock, letting out a low hiss as their hips met, and he was fully seated. 

"Fuck you're tight." Lambert groaned through gritted teeth.

Aiden looked down at him, seeing his own lust reflected back. "I have a strict exercise routine." Aiden quipped, pulling Lambert up by his wrists. He slid his own arms around Lambert's shoulders to hold onto him while he fucked himself on the wolf's cock. Aiden's dick rubbed against Lambert's pubic bone with every downstroke.

Lambert cupped Aiden's ass, lifting him up and driving deeper on the downstrokes. He felt Aiden spasm around him on every stroke. Looking into the cat's eyes, Lambert could see the orgasm building up in Aiden. His lips were fuller, more vivid, slightly parted, his breathing turned into low grunts. 

"I need you to fill me up." Aiden breathed against Lambert's mouth. 

Lambert nodded and trapped Aiden's mouth in a bruising kiss. 

"Just tell me when I _may._ " Lambert moaned into Aiden's mouth, emphasizing the last word. He felt fire pooling low in his abdomen, his balls tightened while he kept thrusting. He knew his cat liked it hard and deep, and Lambert was more than willing to deliver. 

Aiden was ready to explode. With every downward thrust, he felt the knot between his legs unravel a bit further. Reaching down between them with one hand, Aiden began stroking his dick in earnest. Burrowing his head against Lambert's neck, he sucked a bruise into his throat.

Feeling the labored breaths and hearing the deep grunts Lambert was panting out, Aiden knew he was close. Lambert's thighs were trembling, which was a sign that the wolf was doing everything to wait until Aiden told him he could come. _Such a good pup,_ Aiden thought. 

He let go of Lambert's neck and clamped the tight muscles of his cunt down on the next downstroke. "Look at me." he rasped, feeling the muscles in his cunt spasm while he stroked himself to the tipping point. 

"Come for me, pup." With one final stroke of his dick, Aiden felt himself unravel. His vision went white for a moment as all his muscles tightened and released in a shuddering motion. The hot feeling washed over him while he felt Lambert emptying himself. Aiden milked every last drop of come from Lambert as he leaned in and kissed him. 

"You're killing me Aiden." Lambert whispered hoarsely, pressing their foreheads together. 

***

He let out a chuckle. "They do call it the little death in Toussaint, but I think you're a bit overdramatic now." Aiden was still panting as he pushed Lambert back onto the bed and shifted off his cock. 

Putting his ear on Lambert’s chest, Aiden murmured, "I still hear your heart beating, no lupicide here." 

Aiden grabbed a clean towel next to the bed, wiping them both clean, an actual bath would come in the morning he decided as he tossed the cloth across the room. 

The entire room smelled like a blend of calendine, cedar, and come. To Aiden, it was the best scent in the world. 

"Debt paid?" Lambert asked, kissing into the hollow of Aiden's jaw. 

Aiden laughed with a rumble, "With interest, pup."

***

Lambert pulled the sheets up, covering them both in a thin layer of cotton. It was too damn hot for blankets. Turning on his side, he was facing Aiden and pulled him close, draping an arm over the cat's hip. 

Aiden tucked his head under Lambert's chin, and together they listened to the night's sounds through the open window while they both drifted off into sleep.

**EPILOGUE**

The rising sun triggered Lambert’s circadian rhythm. He knew Aiden would probably sleep for another hour or so. He'd snuck down the stairs in his braies to find something to drink and eat and brought it up with him. 

He hadn't felt this calm in over four months. He'd never loved winter at Kaer Morhen, the damn place was colder than a witch's tit. But being there without Aiden had made it worse. 

Cracking his neck, Lambert thought about the past winter he'd spent at Kaer Morhen and tried to picture the keep with Aiden. There was the small issue of the cat school being banned from the keep, but for fuck's sake, there were so few witchers left, Vesemir would probably let it slide. Maybe even welcoming the extra hands to halt the deterioration of their home.

If Aiden wanted to go to Kaer Morhen, they could show Eskel and Geralt what it's like when people are fucking all hours of the day and bothering their fellow witchers with the noise. Lambert had moved to the other end of the keep just to get a full night’s sleep not interrupted by their fuckfest.

Lambert chuckled. When he and Aiden went back to Kaer Morhen for winter, Vesemir would have to invest in earplugs. The old man would be the odd man out. 

Lambert stilled when he realized that he thought _when_ , not _if_. 

***

When Aiden woke up, Lambert was staring out of the window. He had once heard the expression 'herding cats' being used for accomplishing delicate tasks with volatile subjects. Being with Lambert was like herding cats, and Aiden loved it. 

Aiden yawned and stretched out in bed, Lambert heard the movement and turned around with a smile on his face. He walked back to the bed and slipped between the sheets, spooning Aiden and kissing his neck. 

"Thank you for waiting for me. I had a bit of a hold up in Flotsam and well… Let's just say we need to scratch that one off our list for the foreseeable future."

"What did you do this time, Lambert?" Aiden sighed and pushed back against Lambert's chest. "And for how long? Are we talking years or decades?"

Lambert thought about it and cocked his head, "I'd say decades. It's a shithole anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a shoutout to [sohydrated](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohydrated/pseuds/sohydrated) for being an amazing beta yet again. Thank you for the supportive words, time, energy, and input. It's highly appreciated!
> 
> Second shoutout to the Witcher Rarepair Discord, this time for making the July prompt 'Open Windows'.
> 
> ***
> 
> Title and fic inspired by ['How The Day Sounds' by Greg Laswell: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n05xWQLYPOI](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n05xWQLYPOI)


End file.
